


A Demon’s Guide To Diplomacy

by SparkleInTheStars



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has Two Penises (Good Omens), Dom Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Mild Daddy Kink, Naga Crowley (Good Omens), Spanking, Sub Aziraphale (Good Omens), Top Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:54:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28531035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkleInTheStars/pseuds/SparkleInTheStars
Summary: In order to ensure his happily ever after with Aziraphale on earth is long lasting, Crowley attempts to do the impossible- brokering a treaty between Heaven and Hell.  To protect Aziraphale he’s pursuing the treaty in secret when the angel’s book club meets.But secrets start to come out, not just Crowley’s activities, but some very kinky fantasies a certain hedonistic angel has been harboring.  Aziraphale accidentally puts the peace plan in peril, but perhaps fulfilling his fantasies of public punishment may help seal the deal.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 71
Collections: Good Omens - Kinky Kissmas Exchange





	A Demon’s Guide To Diplomacy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nikkiscarlet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikkiscarlet/gifts).



> For Nikkiscarlet with appreciation and admiration, I hope you’ll enjoy!
> 
> This started from the prompt: One of Aziraphale's attempts to lure Crowley into playing to his Angel in Distress kink actually succeeds. Creator's choice whether Crowley's his captor, his rescuer, or both, but either way, everyone's having a good time.
> 
> I can say before this is out, Crowley will be both captor and rescuer.
> 
> Many thanks to my beta, exspecialagentstarling!
> 
> Additional tags will be added with subsequent chapters as needed.

Aziraphale stared out the window of the cafe as the Bentley pulled away.

Life had settled into a delightful routine the past year since the apocanot. Well, not too routine, Aziraphale thought to himself contentedly. Their near death experience had sent them into each other's arms and they’d made a number of life changing discoveries.

Aziraphale had always imagined Crowley taking charge in the bedroom. But they rapidly discovered they both enjoyed Crowley taking the lead out of the bedroom as well. The dynamic had always existed between them, but now it was something acknowledged.

Their new arrangement wasn’t particularly formal; it had three simple rules:

**1) The first was that they treat themselves and each other with respect.**

(Occasionally Aziraphale struggled with that one. Not that he didn’t respect Crowley but occasionally when he would be a bit bratty to provoke the demon, Aziraphale would get overexcited, ignore his warnings, and cross the line. Usually resulting in a trip over Crowley’s knee and a swift reminder)

**2) Under no circumstances was Aziraphale to needlessly endanger himself.**

(Crowley lectured Aziraphale for over an hour that crepes were not a reason to risk discorporation and that he wasn’t to engage in espionage. Under no circumstance was Aziraphale allowed to play damsel in distress with real stakes. The demon went as far as threatening to confiscate all of the angel’s romance novels if he disobeyed!)

**3) Aziraphale wasn’t allowed to lie to Crowley or deliberately hide things from him.**

(This proved the most challenging to Aziraphale, but Crowley was also the most patient about. At least once a week, the angel would get caught in a lie or hiding something. Crowley understood it was a bad behavior developed due to Heaven’s restrictions. He would talk to Aziraphale and determine whether the lie was accidental or intentional and punish him accordingly)

Tonight, Aziraphale was breaking the third rule. He had hidden his plans from Crowley. But it wouldn’t put him in any danger. Well, probably not.

Three months ago, Aziraphale had stumbled onto a vintage romance readers discussion group that met the first and third Tuesday of each month. Crowley had supported it and suggested he schedule some demonic mischief during that time. Initially it went smoothly, but then came the great Georgette Heyer/Barbara Cartland debacle.

Last meeting, a dreadful new woman joined their group and had the  _ audacity _ to claim Barbara Cartland was a better writer than Georgette Heyer. Aziraphale pointed out that Barbara Cartland had allegedly plagiarized from Georgette Heyer, so clearly the newcomer was wrong. Then the entire club began to argue and take sides.

It got bad enough that Aziraphale called for Crowley to come and get him. And to his shock, Crowley asked Aziraphale if he could get a cab.  _ A cab _ ! Granted Aziraphale had relied on them for years, but now that they were together, Crowley drove him everywhere!

Overwrought by the evening, Aziraphale burst into tears and Crowley immediately came for him. The demon had soothed him and promised to drive him to and from every meeting from then on.

But the group had lost its shine and Aziraphale had become very curious about what Crowley had been up to.

Aziraphale realized that he had no idea what Crowley did while he was at his book club. Demonic mischief could have been anything from gluing coins to the sidewalk to taking down the mobile phone network. Before they were together, Crowley had weeks at a stretch to cause mayhem.

With only two evenings a month apart for a few hours, it seemed unlikely Crowley was up to anything too nefarious. But then Aziraphale’s curiousity got the better of him today.

He’d gotten a call this afternoon informing him book club was cancelled due to a mysterious stomach virus. That probably was the demon’s doing as it only affected the Barbara Cartland faction. The call came in while Crowley had been getting take-out for Aziraphale from a marvelous Thai restaurant around the block.

His evening free, an idea struck him. Instead of telling Crowley the meeting was cancelled, Aziraphale would let him drop him off at the cafe where the meeting had been scheduled. And then he would find out what Crowley was doing!

Months ago, Crowley had insisted Aziraphale have a mobile so they could reach each other on the rare occasions they were apart. The angel had resisted until Crowley had reminded him of the bookshop fire. After that, Aziraphale obediently allowed Crowley to teach him everything about the infernal device including how to track the location of one another’s phone.

Aziraphale hesitated for a moment as Crowley drove out of sight, then went outside. He hailed a cab and pulled out his phone as the black hackney pulled up.

***

Crowley pulled up in front of Lancaster House and parked in a freshly miracled space. A snap of his fingers and his normal attire was banished in favor of formalwear. As he got out, he cast a glance at his watch. Fashionably late and right on time for his presentation.

Hopefully Aziraphale’s club would be more successful this week. The whole reason he’d miracled it was to keep the angel occupied. How the Heaven was he supposed to know Aziraphale had a peeve with Barbara bloody Cartland?

Well, he’d sent a mild stomach virus in the direction of the women who sided against Aziraphale. That should fix the matter nicely.

Eventually when things were further along, he would tell Aziraphale everything.

Crowley walked into the building where Dagon greeted him. She had on a long silver gown and looked close to human.

“Lord Dagon.”

Her expression was only slightly disapproving and she bowed her head. “Excellency, they’ll be ready for you shortly.”

He suppressed the urge to thank her. Hell was not much for social niceties and they already struggled what to make of him.

“Point me to somewhere I can have a drink in peace until the presentation,” he said.

Dagon led him to a small reception room where cocktails had been served earlier. The tables were littered with drinks that humans cleared with bored expressions. A lone bartender stood at a small bar.

“Talisker,” Crowley said. “Oldest you’ve got and leave the bottle.”

When the man sat a bottle and glass in front of him, Crowley pulled a large wad of cash from his coat pocket that hadn’t been there a moment ago and stuffed it into his tip jar. Then he waved the man off and took a sip.

“For someone’s sake, let this work,” Crowley grumbled to himself.

So much was riding on this. He’d nearly sold Aziraphale’s side a couple weeks ago. If the angel hadn’t called him in a tizzy, he might have finished convincing Gabriel. He’d convinced Michael in a single short meeting in her office months ago. But unfortunately, her fellow Archangel required flattery and schmoozing.

Last time it was a private bloody fashion show at Burberry. At this rate, he was going to chauffeur the purple eyed arse to fashion week.

All he wanted was to live a quiet life, well maybe not so quiet life, with Aziraphale. The angel made all manner of delightful noises in the bedroom. But if Crowley couldn’t prevent war, he feared Heaven and Hell wouldn’t be satisfied until they’d destroyed the earth and each other.

Personally Crowley didn’t give a damn what happened to the angels and demons, but lovely little human people made so many delightful gadgets and things to drink. Earth? He and Aziraphale were comfortable! It was their home and he wanted to make sure it stayed that way.

Archangels and Archdemons, in their zeal to hold a glorified pissing match, threatened to destroy them all. Someone had to be the voice of reason in the madness. Crowley never planned or wanted to be that voice, but then it happened.

One night, Aziraphale had smiled at him after a night of lovemaking. Unguarded, utterly adoring, the angel had glowed with the pure love that Crowley remembered existing before the Fall, before She stopped talking and the Archangels wouldn’t stop talking. In that moment, Crowley knew he couldn’t wait and hope, he had to find a way to keep Aziraphale safe and protect the life they’d created.

“They’re ready to introduce you,” Dagon announced from the doorway.

  
  


***

Aziraphale found Crowley’s phone had stopped at the Lancaster House. Across from Green Park and only a few blocks from the Ritz, the angel was quite familiar with the location. The historic building hosted everything from social events to political events. And since shortly before World War II, it had served as the national wine cellar.

He had the taxi stop in front of Lancaster House and after a moment’s hesitation, got out. Crowley was inside likely stealing a bottle or two of something special for them. Perhaps he could think of an excuse why he happened to be there and run into him. They could grab dinner at the Ritz and then open the bottle of wine in bed. The Bentley sat parked out front in a miraculously convenient spot.

Aziraphale went into the building and was stopped almost immediately by a couple demons in formal attire. One was a red haired woman who might have passed for human had her mouth not been full of sharp teeth. She had been at Crowley’s trial. The other was a silver haired man who stood nearly seven feet tall, with bulging black eyes and had a faint greenish hue to his skin that had a reptilian pattern.

Unsure whether he should be worried, Aziraphale squared his shoulders.

“I know Crowley is here. I don’t know if you’re in cahoots with him or followed him. But I must insist you take me to him immediately.”

“Is that a fact?” The man looked Aziraphale up and down with a lascivious expression. “Tasty morsel for an angel.”

“I’m Crowley’s er morsel,” he replied. “I imagine you’ve heard of how he survived after his trial.”

Dagon scowled slightly. “If you want him, go home and wait like a good angel.”

“Indeed,” the tall demon agreed.

“I’m not going anywhere without- Crowley!” Aziraphale cried out as he saw Crowley walk out of a room. 

His relief was short lived as two things registered. The first was that Crowley had exchanged his ordinary attire from when they parted company for a tuxedo that fit flawlessly. And the second was the absolutely thunderous expression on his face. Not only did Crowley look less than pleased to see Aziraphale, he looked absolutely furious!

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said in a clipped voice as he stopped beside him.

“Crowley, what the hell-“ Aziraphale began, then stopped immediately as Crowley raised his hand and shushed him.

“Duke Agares, Lord Dagon, this is my angel who clearly needs a bit more training, Aziraphale.”

Outraged, Aziraphale spluttered, “More training! Crowley, I’m not a child!”

The moment the words left his mouth, Aziraphale regretted them as one eyebrow arched sharply over the edge of the designer sunglasses.

“Aziraphale, I suggest you go outside to the Bentley and wait for me in the backseat.”

Duke Agares looked delighted and added, “Best listen to your Demon Daddy.”

Aziraphale felt his face flush with embarrassment, but obeyed and walked outside. The Bentley opened its door and the front seat moved forward as the angel approached. It was clearly obeying their Master.

Reluctantly he got in the backseat and the door closed with a resounding thud. It had seemed so simple, but it hadn’t gone at all as he’d planned. Aziraphale felt tears forming, but swallowed them back.

The door of the Bentley swung open and a moment later, Crowley was seated beside him. His expression hadn’t softened much, but he sat calmly.

“I believe I'm entitled to an explanation, Aziraphale.”

Not angel or any pet name, this wasn’t a good sign. 

“Right, an explanation,” he said and struggled for words. “Well you see, that is-“

“Stop.” Crowley shook his head. “You’ve already lied or deceived me this evening. Don’t compound the error by trying to cover it up. Come clean and your punishment will be far less than if you lie to me.”

Aziraphale’s lip wobbled slightly.

“I wondered what you were up to when I’m at Book Club. You said demonic things, but not what.”

“I see,” the demon said impassively. 

“So when Book Club was cancelled tonight, I let you drive me there. Then I tracked your phone with mine in a cab.”

Aziraphale hung his head slightly and stared at his hands in his lap. Each word sounded awful as he said them.

“Continue,” Crowley commanded.

“When I saw where you were, I thought I’d find you helping yourself to a few bottles of wine. I never thought there would be demons having some sort of a party. What were you doing there anyway?”

“We’re not discussing me. We are discussing you.”

Aziraphale pouted slightly. “It hardly seems fair-“

“Angel,” Crowley warned in a low tone.

“I thought I’d find you alone and that we would go to the Ritz and drink stolen wine in bed tonight.”

Crowley removed his sunglasses and slipped them into his pocket, then sighed. “If you wanted to know what I was up to, you should have asked. Tracking me with your phone shows a distinct lack of respect, doesn’t it?”

“Rule one.”

“By not talking to me, you put yourself in the path of two very powerful demons who could have summoned dozens of demons from the ballroom with a single word. Intentionally or not, your actions placed you in danger.”

“Rule two,” Aziraphale said softly. It felt like the air had left the Bentley and Crowley’s lithe frame seemed suddenly quite intimidating.

“And at the outset of the evening, you had me take you to a meeting that wasn’t taking place. You deliberately deceived me.”

“Rule three.”

The angel swallowed and looked at Crowley. It was clear he wouldn’t be getting out of this without some sort of punishment.

“I want to believe that you got caught up and thought you were having a harmless adventure on a whim. I don’t want to believe you purposefully broke all three rules.”

Aziraphale looked at him anxiously.

“You’ll still have to be punished. Take your pants and underwear down to your ankles.”

“Here! Crowley, people will see!”

“They will not see.” He brought his fingers up and snapped. “But this won’t wait. You know you deserve to be punished.”

Aziraphale nodded shamefaced and proceeded to lift his buttocks and pull his trousers and underpants down to his ankles. The leather was smooth and cold against his exposed bottom. Then Crowley pulled Aziraphale over his lap so the angel was face down and his pale posterior was vulnerable.

The demon skimmed his fingers over the contours of the angel’s plush bottom.

“Do you know why Duke Agares referred to me as your Demon Daddy?”

“Why?”

“Hell knows you’re under my protection and discipline,” Crowley answered.

There was a momentary breeze as one slim hand drew back, then suddenly came down hard on an exposed cheek.

“And they also know, I indulge you endlessly, like a sugar daddy.”

Aziraphale cried out as another staccato slap hit his other arse cheek.

“Whether you address me as Demon Daddy,” Crowley said and gave a hard swat to each cheek. Then punctuated each word with another smack. “Call me Master or just Crowley. You are my responsibility, angel.”

Tears that had formed but not fallen returned and traced down Aziraphale’s cheeks. Crowley gave him a series of painful slaps on his exposed bottom as people passed the car, oblivious to the angel’s punishment inside.

A moment later, the spanking stopped and Crowley pulled Aziraphale around in his arms so they were face to face. Cradled against the demon’s chest, Aziraphale sobbed for a few minutes as the hand that had warmed his backside now rubbed the angel’s back soothingly.

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale hiccuped.

“I know, angel.” Crowley pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Demon daddies are not fun.”

“Did you or did you not deserve this?”

Aziraphale looked at him sheepishly.

“As long as we’re here and your punishment is over,” Crowley suggested in a silky voice. “We could have dinner at the Ritz, I suppose.”

“Really?!”

“Can’t have you thinking there isn’t some sugar daddy in addition to the demon.”

Half an hour later, they were at their favorite table. Crowley sat closer than usual and ordered all of Aziraphale’s favorites. The soreness of Aziraphale’s bottom started to feel less painful and more pleasurable as Crowley coddled and teased him.

***

By dessert, they were too aroused to return home. Crowley miracled a suite at the hotel for them. The demon slid his fingers over the angel’s pink arse as he used his tongue to wring orgasm after orgasm from Aziraphale’s pussy. When they finally coupled, Aziraphale came crying out, “Demon Daddy” which amused and pleased Crowley tremendously.

Eventually he could tell Aziraphale everything, but for now he needed to keep the angel out of trouble. Perhaps he could find some means of distracting him.

Aziraphale had fallen asleep and Crowley miracled the angel’s phone from his jacket on a nearby chair. A bit of a demonic miracle was in order so the angel couldn’t track him on a whim but only a genuine emergency.

He punched in the code - 3336 - Eden.

And then Crowley stopped.

Aziraphale had made him eliminate all but the phone, phone finder, camera, and photo apps from the screen to avoid confusing him. So it was very noticeable that there was a Kindle app and a couple other eReaders.

He smiled and shook his head. So the stubborn angel was joining modern times for the sake of reading materials. 

Idly, Crowley tapped the Kindle button, his mind sleepily expecting a barrage of Georgette Heyer And Jane Austen. But instead, he was greeted by a veritable ocean of salacious titles about serpents, demons, alphas, and dominance.

Crowley smiled at Aziraphale’s sleeping form and said softly, “My, my, what have you been hiding, angel?”

He snapped his fingers and returned the phone to Aziraphale’s jacket. The tracking app had been adjusted on the angel’s phone. And now Crowley’s phone held a copy of Aziraphale’s library to explore...


End file.
